


A Black Rose

by Corvus713



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Blasphemy kinda?, Bottom!Damian Wayne, M/M, Mentioned sex rambles, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Spying, Stalker like behaviour, Top!Tim Drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25781833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvus713/pseuds/Corvus713
Summary: Tim wonders if Damian knows how much he is tempting him.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Damian Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 112





	A Black Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Just a document I had laying around with dialogue that I don't know what it's for so I've decided to post it here, sex is mentioned but it's not that explicit 
> 
> Disclaimer: Again, this is FICTION not REALITY.

Sometimes, I wonder if you are deliberately taunting me with your tanned sun-kissed skin, soft black hair, and dazzling green eyes that can only be akin to diamonds than the emeralds people like to describe them as.

Insulting, actually.

However… I wonder if you know that I watch you, how close I pay attention to your every action – every movement, every expression, every word and hum from your lips, every ghost of a smile from amusement that seems to make its way onto your face I have to know – I catalog anything and everything about you that I see, record it down so I’ll never forget.

Though… I bet you don't know... because if you did then surely, you’d be prudent in not showing any defenseless side of yourself.

I adore you in all facets.

I watch you through my bedroom windows as I attempt to finish off the paperwork for the WE Board, but – like always – I stop when I see you.

You being outside is no surprise, especially with those animals that you insist on caring for and taking in – I wonder if you do it because you see yourself in them – but what is surprising is that you of all people are out during the rain, a heavy fall at that, despite hammering and hollering at others not to do so because they’d catch a cold.

Do you think no one can see you?

Perhaps, you are right on account of Bruce and Alfred – they’re too negligent to track down your whereabouts in the house.

Ah, you probably think I don’t care to look for you either and I can’t fault you for that… as I grew older, I realized it was in my best interest to feign indifference and so you must have come to the conclusion that I would not see you either.

But, I do.

I see you.

I see you as you let your hair down and release unexpected curls that frame your face from the gelled up, slicked back, and combed over confines you put it in to imitate Bruce.

I think you look better without it.

I see you as you fold your carefully constructed mask down to reveal your truest self, and it is as heartbreaking as it is beautiful.

I watch as you twirl yourself on the tips of your feet, moving to a soundless song that I long to hear with my own ears.

I watch as you dance alone, your hands making motions that make me want to cradle them into my own and kiss every scar ridden finger to feel the callouses made by blades you held at an age too young to understand the significance of.

And I would feel a burning hot raging anger against those who had made you stain those small hands of yours for a crusade that you were forced to fight.

I seethe with a jealousy like no other that they tainted the purity of your soul before I got the chance to take that all away from you – this is my sin, my perversion if you will, and I’m not ashamed of it.

I never could be for these are what make me wholeheartedly my own, and these are all my way to show my love for you, Damian.

And I would feel the gnawing ache in my chest which is love, I would be proud of you for surviving such excruciating pain in the hands of your own blood, be thankful that despite it all you are here with me now and I would give you whatever your heart desires.

I watch you as you dance, like a fire on a cold winter evening that keeps burning despite the freezing conditions, with such grace and poise that it would make every dancer in the world jealous of your splendor even though every movement is filled with an inexplicable grief.

Watching you makes me desire to take you away from this bitter world and lock you away, hide you, keep you safe.

Won’t you let me, Damian?

Let me protect you like nobody else ever has, the way that they should have from the start, the way you deserve to be, this I implore of you – no, this I beg you, to gift me with such a privilege.

Or at the very least, could you please ensure that no one else will ever have the chance to spoil you before I do?

I watch you dance some more, watch as the flow of your movements change as if you were accepting a partner into the throes of your dance – how I wish it were me - your plush lips curving into a gentle smile, like a siren’s call beckoning a sailor to their death.

It makes me wonder, it fills me with want and desire, of unspeakable sins that even God himself would blush and wince from hearing.

I am imagining you, with your diamond green eyes gazing into my own with a fondness, as I cup your cheek with my hand, running my thumb over those pink lips of yours before stealing your breath away with a kiss.

I am imagining your body withering under mine from the pleasure that I will keep giving you even when you beg me to stop because I know that you are enjoying it and don’t mean those words.

I am imagining the noises that I will elicit from your mouth that you will try to muffle as I deflower you, making sure to admire and worship every scar you have on your body before I even get to touching you where you want me to.

I am imagining you, dressed in soft lace that hugs your small body and stands strikingly against your soft caramel like skin as I make my way between your legs, stopping at your thighs to bite them so you can feel my claim – the proof of us being together, every step you take the next day.

I do admit, these are only a few of the sinful things I wish to enjoy with you.

There are so many sinful contemplations that I’m sure that they would even scare the devil into submission.

I almost find it laughable, how much everyone wants to cage you and chain you down by saying you’re a threat to society when you are only a child trying to find their way in a world you’ve never been a part of, it’s sad how a pretty face and a charming smile coupled with honey words will convince them to let a monster roam free.

They’ve never had a good track record with seeing people for who they are.

Yet, you do, Damian.

You saw me, saw the parts Bruce didn’t and praised me for those, accepted my darkest traits with the ease that no one else ever has – though, you only scratched the surface.

I wonder how you would react to seeing my thoughts now?

Or maybe you already know of my love, think it’s the pure sort, and have decided to take it in stride.

You seem to see people at their worse and still have a desire to help them back up on their feet without wanting anything in return.

I don’t think you know how many people that you have inherently saved – how they are attracted to you like moths to a bright light that never fades – how utterly genuinely caring you are to people, strangers even, in a world that has caused you nothing but pain and suffering from your conception, to your birth, and even now as you strive to change yourself for the better despite the lack of acknowledgment.

Though, I find it silly for you to choose to remain so sweet and kind to people who never thought twice to give you the same courtesy.

But that tenderness makes you who you are and all that and more make me fall for you harder than the last – I don’t think that it would be possible for me to love another once I have you in my arms.

And you would give, you would keep giving your love until there was nothing left of you and even then you’d try to give more, and I would take – I would greedily take it all until you run dry and I’d still want more of you, all of you, even the parts you don’t want anyone else to know about.

Such, dreadful and dark feelings make me a beast, don’t they?

So, Damian, would you do me the pleasure and be the Beauty to my Beast?

So, you should come to me, Damian.

You should run into my arms for comfort, and I would gently brush away the tears you wept.

You would be like Little Red Riding Hood and I the wolf laying in wait but not to eat your flesh, rather to keep you to myself and drag you away to devour you in other ways.

It is driving me to insanity, watching you, coveting you as I watch you dance and wish that I could anoint you and worship you as the God in human flesh that you are on top of an altar.

I also wish you would go back inside the Manor walls, you might catch a cold and I would not be able to see you for our meals and watch as you sit on your knees because you are too short to reach the table – I’m glad Bruce hasn’t replaced that table, you look adorable as you struggle at such mundane things – pouting when you can’t reach what you are trying to get and it makes me want to take you then and there, doesn’t matter whose watching so long as they know that you’re mine.

But, to be honest with you, I do not care about you being sick so long as only I may care for you.

I am perverse, and I’m inclined to think that if you knew my thoughts that you would agree with me.

But I do this out of love for you, Damian.

Who better to take into your bed and arms then a man who has been approved by both your parents and Grandfather?

I’ll see you soon, that much I’m sure.

Won’t we have fun, Damian?

I’ll make sure we do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Also, if you like it you can follow me on twitter @Corvus71347984 I post stuff like this on there sometimes.


End file.
